My Past Eyes
by Crystalmoon101
Summary: History is sometimes hard to understand, especially if you were not present during those events. Thus, sometimes stories are covered up. However, Zak gets a chance to hear the truth from his past self...


**This story was mostly made for the drawing/cover I made. Butttt, I also have been wanting to write something for this show for a long time. I love it so much and it sucks it ended so badly. **

**I understand there were marketing problems and so on, sadly. So, here I am, making a story set after the finale. **

**A lot of this is based on personal headcanons, specifically around Kur. Given what little we actually knew about him, besides the one sided stories from certain people, I always felt there was more to him than being a 'monster'. **

**Also, the first part kind of reminds me of Frozen II, with the song 'Into The Unknown'. It's also a bit of a rant from myself, venting some frustrations I've been having and dealing with depression, so sorry about that.**

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**Synopsis****:**

**History is sometimes hard to understand, especially if you were not present during those events. Thus, sometimes stories are covered up. However, Zak gets a chance to hear the truth from his past self...**

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**Characters****:**

**Zak**

**Kur**

**Warning****:**

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**Disclaimer****: I don't own The Secret Saturdays**

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Everyone has something about themselves they don't like, and how the people around them react can negatively affect you and what you hate about yourself. And more often than not, you can't simply erase it. It's stuck to you, gripping on and continually whispering in the back of your head, reminding you about it. Sadly, it often takes you too long to realise your own voice is the one whispering to you.

Zak Saturday has something about himself he hates. What would that be? You ask. Well, he happens to be a reincarnation of a tyrant monster from thousands of years ago.

Most seem to think the boy is possessed by the spirit of a monster, but the reality was worse. He was Kur, his own soul once belonged to that creature. Zak wished it had been possession, maybe then he could blame it on someone else. Sadly, all his actions were his own, that he was in fact Kur.

But there was a brief period where the young Saturday thought it was all other, that this thing tormenting him the past year was gone, finally able to go back to his, somewhat, normal life.

Thinking he lost his power after Argost's death. The world didn't have any reason to fear him, the other secret scientists would no longer chase his family and they could finally rebuild their home. It had been so long since they could stay in one spot for so long.

But he should have known better. This wasn't something you could wipe away, it was a part of him he had to live with. And yet he denied it, right after that familiar glow of orange reappeared, flowing around his eyes, tapping into the old magic sealed in his very own soul.

He could only be thankful no one was around when it reared its ugly head, for he could still hide it from the world. He didn't want to risk such negative and dangerous reactions again. Remembering how the other scientists treated him like an unstable bomb, ready to destroy the earth. How friends didn't know how to talk about it, reacting in fear at times, sometimes even pushing him as they could never understand. Even family, while doing their best and supporting him, would still struggle to say the right things. But he couldn't blame them, who could? No one but he knew what it felt like, while still being in the dark half the time.

Constantly tangoing with the shadows latching onto him, doubt choking him and guilt weighing his shoulders. He had to lie, to the world, to his family, to himself, because he thought it was for the better.

But it only made things worse. He knew this, but still denied it. It wasn't just his suffering that made him lie, it was his family. They all took on a burden to help their youngest when they learned the dark truth of his power, dealing with heavy backlash. He didn't want that for them, not again.

However, it seems his powers had other ideas. As they came back, Zak realised they were growing faster, becoming stronger and etching deeper into his mind and body. He didn't know why, maybe a side effect from having his very own soul ripped out, or the fact he was now transitioning into teenage hood. It was getting harder and harder to hide the truth, but he was willing to torture himself so others wouldn't be hurt.

So when the boy awoke from his slumber, seeing an orange glow lighting up his darkroom in the middle of the night, he found himself immediately springing up into a sitting position, shaking his head roughly. Mentally tugging his powers, he caged them once more and the glowing ceased.

Sitting in silence, Zak raised his hands, one brushing through his duel coloured hair, the other holding his stomach. The sudden panic, late in the night mind you, brought an ill feeling to deal with.

Dark eyes drifting to his alarm clock, the child noted the time. '3:45 AM'

He knew everyone would be asleep, minus Fiskerton, who would be out and about in his late-night adventures. Even then, if his parents were still doing late-night research, they wouldn't hear him from his room. The only person he had to be careful around was Komodo, as his reptilian brother slept at the end of the bed.

Shifting his gaze to the lizard, Zak let out a gentle sigh, thankful to see he hadn't woken up the beast. Then again, it took the sound of Beeman's jets to wake up the Cryptid. When he wanted to sleep, he would sleep.

But as the young Saturday was calming himself, he felt it, once more. A strange sensation, like a siren, that only he could hear, was calling to him. Whispers brushing against his ears, the words too muffled to understand, but knowing very well they were trying to draw him somewhere. It always appeared when his powers were acting up lately.

He didn't know where his powers wanted to lead him, and frankly, he didn't want to know. Ever since he learnt the origins of his abilities, they've brought nothing but trouble. So now they wanted to personally guide him somewhere, he wasn't falling for it.

However, the whispering wasn't going to stop, thus he couldn't go back to sleep. He found the only way to postpone it, was to wander around and think to himself, maybe even letting his powers shine a little, if only just to settle them, despite his hatred towards them.

Shuffling off his bed, he began to slip on some comfortable house shoes. He glanced at his brother again, before fixing his bedsheets and strolling out his room.

He didn't know exactly what to do when wandering, expect to not go too close to his parents' room, Zon's nest or sometimes the living room, as his uncle would crash on it at times. He needed, no, wanted time alone. They didn't deserve to go through all that Kur nonsense again.

Finding himself walking down the halls, he let his tired eyes gaze around. He was surprisingly quiet in his steps, like an owl that could soar over fields without making a peep. His family trained him in sneaking, and he had learned some tips from Wadi or Fiskerton.

Hearing the chilling echoes of tangled words again, brushing the back of his mind, he forced himself to look at one of the many family portraits hanging around. Everyone was in it, Drew, Doc, Fisk, Komodo, Zon, Zak and even Doyle. A rather new picture to the collection.

They had recovered or repaired many of their old belongings, especially photos, as Drew made sure to have plenty of backups. But their new home felt off-putting to Zak. He didn't know why. Maybe he was still getting used to it, or maybe it reminded him that, not so long ago, they had practically moved into the airship during their hideaway.

Eyes looking away, the boy couldn't help but keep blaming himself. Yes, Fisk may have been the one to accidentally destroy their home, but it was all to find the ancient evil they vowed to stop. That they pushed Fisk so much to find Kur, despite his protests to keep Zak safe, that they lost their home.

It always rounded back to the boy. Whether it was to protect him or because he was Kur, the majority of their problems were because of him. At least, that's what he always told himself.

He knew he shouldn't take the blame, that events lined up and hardly anyone was to blame, besides a certain dead yeti. It wasn't healthy, as his parents, siblings and uncle reminded him. But he felt like he deserved it, as punishment for existing. He used the guilt, anger, sorrow and fear to try and chain himself, thinking he had to remind himself how he was a monster, believing it would keep him in line.

Then the glowing started again, causing his eyes to widen and step back.

"No…" He groaned, covering his face and taking shaky breaths.

The nagging whisper pulled at him again, a little louder this time, yet still so unclear. But he refused to listen, not trusting what was within him.

When the orange light faded once more, he pulled his hands away, gazing at his palms.

He didn't understand why he had to be the bad guy. He had lived his life trying to help anyone who needed him. Sure, maybe he acted bratty or cocky here and there, but he only wished to protect and save those in need, especially the cryptids he vowed to keep safe. He could only be so thankful they didn't see him as a monster anymore.

It was the humans he had to worry about. What they didn't understand, or only saw one side to, scared them and would cause them to do anything to protect themselves. Even if that thing proved they weren't bad or tried so hard to be good, they struggled to look past it.

He hated how people started calling him Kur. It wasn't out of spite, for they truly believe that's who he was and would ever be, like his Zak personality was a facade, constructed by the original owner of his soul.

It was so easy to judge him, cast him aside and even blame him for what he is. Even now, with things calmed down, there was no sincere apology. They wanted to move on and helped the Saturdays, yet still acted as if the blame was on the poor boy. That it was his fault that he was born like this and didn't know how to deal with it.

It's why he was willing to lie to himself, because he thought it would far outweigh the risks of opening up again. For his and his family's sake.

However, that feeling wouldn't leave and his senses were still on high alert. He had to try something else, so he decided to head to the landing pad. Perhaps the fresh, oceanside air would calm his mental nerves.

He almost wished he brought his blanket, feeling the crisp air latch onto him, combating his natural body heat. His bed messed hair twirling around in the wind, but it didn't bother him.

Strolling to the middle, allowing his body to take in the natural surroundings he could smell, hear, feel and even taste, before he opened his eyes, looking out at the horizon across the ocean. Stars decorating the night sky, the half-moon being his only company.

While it might seem so off-putting to others, Zak loved the isolation from the normal world. He could deal with such dark subjects without having civilians scared around him, able to hide away from such a busy world. He truly loved the world of cryptids, science and mystery, it was just himself he didn't want to live with.

But as he gazed along the ocean, his eyes snapped in one direction. Frozen in place, they began to glow intensely, the stars in his peripheral twinkled and glimmered unnatural in his vision. The moon shone blindly, its reflection in the water was almost matching. It was like his eyes were seeing another world, or perhaps another view.

Then his mind flashed white, as if trying to remember something, but the visions so cloudy and painful. Gritting his teeth and gripping his head, he felt his body stiffen and feel so warm.

He needed to go somewhere, it felt so urgent, that the more he waited, the more painful this would become. But he didn't want to listen, not after all that happened. What he wanted was to put all of this behind him, why couldn't his own body and mind get that?

Yet, as he pulled his hands out of his hair, he looked down at them. It almost looked like the outline of his body was glowing in his strange gaze, like he was seeing the magic and his very own soul. The soul that was the reason he was here and was what he was.

It made him very well aware that this wasn't going to stop anytime soon, for this was something apart of him that he couldn't just toss out and pretend it never existed. And with how his power was growing, he was going to slip up around his family, or someone worse.

Biting his lip, he looked back out at the sea, now a golden orange in his eyes. The siren that echoed its song in his head pulled harder and harder each day. He didn't like it, but he knew he had to listen eventually, if he ever wanted it to stop.

Maybe he still could keep everyone out of it. Take a quick look into whatever was calling him, then it could all go back to normal once more.

He knew how delusional he was sounding, but he preferred that than the haunting thoughts that snapped at him.

* * *

Resting against his seat, Zak guided the Griffin through the sky. He was briefly distracted by the morning sun beginning to rise. Feeling his stomach sink, he tried to focus on piloting the jet. He had hoped to borrow the vehicle and find this unknown location before his parents awoke, but it appeared his mysterious destination was a little farther than he expected, taking him all the way to the middle east.

Very soon, his family would begin to awake. He could almost imagine the scenario about to happen. His parents would go to the kitchen and begin making breakfast, his father probably doing work while eating. Doyle will drag himself off the couch when he smelled the scent of fresh food and, after grabbing a plate to eat, will question where his nephew is. His mother, having presumed Zak had a rough night or something, decided to see where her baby boy was. Of course, when she checked the boy's bedroom, only seeing Komodo, the worrying will begin. At first, she'll presume he went to wake up Zon or make sure Fiskerton came home alright, as his brother primarily slept during dawn or dusk. Checking Fisk's hideout and then Zon's nest, Drew will begin to realise something is wrong. Freaking out and getting his dad and uncle involved. After plenty of searching one of them will discover the Griffin is gone and watch the security cameras, seeing the youngest Saturday flying off.

The boy could already feel his mother's fury and worry, thinking about what kind of punishment she'll hash out. But there was nothing he could do now, he already risked too much, so he might as well go all the way.

He could only be grateful his vision returned to normal, or else flying the jet was going to be one strange ride. Now, Zak did actually know how to fly this thing, just not during a battle, as he had no training if he got into a dogfight. Thankfully, the trip was rather quiet, only getting a little bumpy from some of the weather he passed by.

Breaking through the clouds, the cryptid controller stared down at the coastline, connected to the Gulf of Persia. The tugging feeling felt stronger, got easier to manage, as it was no longer screaming at him to come. However, his nerves weren't settling, as he still had no clue on what was going on. He also didn't like the location, knowing full well, thanks to his mother, he was around where the ancient civilization Sumer used to be, also known as Kur's original homeland. He already knew this had to relate to that creature, but he had been begging it wasn't.

Biting his tongue, he allowed his subconscious to guide his hands, which in turn guided the Griffin. He found himself gliding down, flying past the coast and further into the mainland. Gazing at the land below, the boy looked out for anything noteworthy.

As he flew, he found himself tipping the Griffin forward, diving down to his supposed destination. And it appeared to be a mountain range with no signs of anything unusual. As he drew closer, his powers started flaring up again, almost jumping with joy to be around here, for some reason.

He circled around a few times, trying to pinpoint the exact location, before landing. He couldn't get as close as he would like, but the mountains and rocks were rather jagged, barely giving room for the jet. So, he would have to make the rest of the trip on foot.

Parking the Griffin, he took a moment to sit there, contemplating if he was actually going through with this. But, as he placed a hand on his chest, his eyes began to glow, gently for once. The voice in the back of his mind was soft, encouraging him just to take a few more steps and everything might finally make sense.

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his baggy eyes, cutting off the flowing magic that seeped out of them. Pulling himself up and opening the jet, he slid out of it, catching himself on the ground.

Immediately, the strong winds swirled around him, causing his clothes and hair to flutter around like mad. Pouting, he began to make his way forward, wishing he had brought a jacket, along with noting that would soon need a hair tie, having been letting his hair grow out this past year.

At least he was a nature boy, he could only imagine what someone, like Francis, would do in the great outdoors, hiking the mountains alone.

Pushing passed rocks and taking in every detail about his surroundings, he began to notice something. Like, how he found pathway, a rather old one at that, damaged and worn down from overgrown plants, fallen rocks and the natural climate over many years. It wasn't much to go by, but it confirmed that people, or cryptids, lived here once, which might be why he was here.

Doing his best to follow the damaged path, he found himself standing in a dead-end, facing the side of the mountain. Frowning, he looked at the path again, seeing it lead into the wall. He knew something was here, hiding, he just needed to find a way to enter. Thinking back to his adventure with Doyle, Fisk and Abbey, he remembered how his brother's instincts lead him to see past the illusions hiding his homeland. Perhaps he had to do the same.

Shuffling closer, he drifted a hand to his belt, slipping out the claw. He found that the weapon was the only comfort he had recently, being it was the one thing keeping him stable enough ever since his powers returned. So, letting out a shaky breath, he raised the staff holding the artifact, watching it uncurl as it connected with him, glowing a rich orange to match his own.

His vision began to change once more, allowing an orange hue to cover everything. But as it blanketed his surroundings, rocks around the wall he face began to display symbols. He didn't recognize them from anywhere, but it was possibly an ancient language or drawing style. And yet, he felt like he knew them, as if he had seen them before. This familiar feeling guided his eyes, shooting glances at certain marks in some kind of order. Each time he looked to the next one, it flashed white and the rock twisted.

Something told he had been here before, or at least, a part of him has. Even if he doesn't remember.

The final rock twirled, then all of them pushed into the wall as it began to shake. Stepping back and holding his claw close, Zak watched as an orange line of magic, strikingly similar to his own powers, snapped up the wall. It began to part, the mountain walls vanishing somehow, showing an open doorway. Now, this wasn't just an ordinary doorway, as it was huge. Towering Zak as it revealed that almost the entire mountain was hollow on the inside, clearly some kind of base or home.

Frozen in place, the boy kept looking up and down at the massive arc of a doorway, not understanding why it was enormous, evening causing the wind to blowback as it opened. Before he could stop himself, however, he felt his legs move for him, strolling into the hidden insides.

The moment his foot stepped in, the dark interior lit up, symbols similar to the ones outside flared with magic, etched into the walls. Ancient wording, architecture and mythical energy covered every inch of the place. Dusty drapes hanging on the walls, some even covering tapestries that displayed images of cryptid creatures, mostly of what appeared to be some kind of orange serpent dragon. A large hole in the middle of the 'room', full of gold, artifacts, books and even what appeared to be scales, claws and teeth around the same size as Zak, maybe even bigger. Old pillars were able to reach the roof, despite the massive reach. It felt like a room for a giant, and maybe that's what it was.

He pushed forward, the magic drawing him in as he found he couldn't shut off his powers. Definitely a magical hotspot, but designed for him. Yet his powers weren't blaring out of control, in fact, it was the opposite. They relaxed, powered up and filled him with energy, his tired expression jolting off of him. His magic felt at home, making him know exactly what this place was.

"Kur's nest…" He found himself whispering out loud, taking in his surroundings.

Maybe his powers were just homesick? Needing this boost to settle or repair any damaged caused by Argost. Could explain the pain as well. Yet he couldn't stop feeling so strange, standing in the home of his past life, the same nest that no one has been able to find in years. He felt he should be nervous, even uncomfortable to stand in such a place. But, for the first time in months, he felt so relaxed, so peaceful, that he was safe to be here.

Then he noticed that tugging feeling hasn't stopped. Turning, he found himself peering into the pile of gold and treasures, noticing an empty patch in the middle. He couldn't see anything, but he felt the magic drawing him to that precise location.

As careful as he can be, he slid down the side, catching himself on one of the massive scales that laid about. Staring down at it, he could see his own reflection, as if no dust had covered it. To think, this came from the King Of Cryptids. Zak could only imagine how big he was.

Hopping around the treasures and discharged scales, claws and teeth, the young Saturday come closer and closer to his goal. He almost yelped as the gold under him collapsed, sliding him down to the middle, but he caught himself last minute. The sudden movement kicked up some dust, causing him to cough lightly, waving his hand to clean the air.

As he did so, the ground under him began to glow, engravings shining as magic flowed through them, almost like a river. That's when the ground began to shake, making Zak freeze in place, keeping his balance as the centre began to twist and turn, some parts of it rising out of the floor. Lowering himself, Zak placed a hand on the ground to steady himself.

As the floor changed shape, a pedestal formed, displaying some kind of artifact. It golden with black symbols and patterns, looking like some kind of strange vase. It felt like the thing calling to him, reaching out to him and telling him to step closer.

He should know better than to mess with ancient devices, given his mishap with the Mondays and smoke mirror, but he couldn't control himself, or maybe he didn't care about the dangers at this point. Pulling himself up and stepping closer, he squinted his eyes and tilted his head about, examining the item. He could feel his own magic attached to it, but it wasn't made by Kur, or any of his followers, as different magic resided in the core.

Hooking his claw to his belt, the boy raised a hand and reached towards it, transfixed by the old pottery. That's when thick, white and mysterious magic jolted out from the top, flailing about. Before Zak could pull back or even think about running, it struck forward, piercing its own magic into his chest.

The terrifying feeling of something messing with his soul drove Zak to panic, trying to pull away or even use his own powers to combat it. But he wasn't strong enough and it knew what it was doing.

The last thing Zak felt was his back arcing, soul being encased and his body going numb, before his orange vision became hazy, fading and soon pitch black...

* * *

He was blinded constantly by various colours. His own body feeling like it was twisting and bending so unnaturally, as if he had no bones. Sense of smell, touch and sound no where, as if they shut off, unable to handle the experience.

So how glad he was it was over in a moment, the sudden event slamming full force for a quick second. However, he did need time to process what in the world was going on.

Suddenly feeling the full weight of his body, the boy dropped onto the ground, narrowly catching himself on his hands and knees. Gritting his teeth, he didn't dare open his eyes so quickly, waiting for the nauseating pounding in his head and guts to dissipate.

His magic, however, he had no control over. It shot through his veins, encasing his brain and shielding his body. Somehow, it felt even stronger than before, more ready and upright, as if it was the only part of him ok with what just happened.

Scrunching his eyes, Zak risked a peak. Cracking open an eyelid, his vision, still covered in a hazy orange tint, locked onto the sight of that vase. White magic poured out of it, but it was foggy this time, seeping out and covering the floor.

Confused by its previous actions, the young Saturday began to rise to his feet. Something felt different. But he knew he was still in the same place. The carvings, pedestal and treasures, all still there.

That's when his eyes noticed the small details. Cracks he saw before, denting the aged flooring, walls and pillars, now no longer there. Dust that had covered everything, wiped away. Even the lighting had changed, glowing intensely behind him. He was in the same place, but it looked clean, nowhere near as ancient as he saw it.

As his other senses came back, his ears twitched as a loud huff of air pushed against him, causing his hair and shirt to flutter about again. He quickly realised it wasn't the wind.

Feeling his whole body stiffen, the child slowly shuffled around, only to be greeted by a horrifying sight.

There stood a massive dragon. The beast's serpent body, twisted around the vast room, its many legs, almost like a centipede, resting everywhere, even some on the walls or pillars. Radiant sun-blessed wings, folded as tightly as they could be, the see-through membrane illuminating anything seen through it. Hues of orange, gold and yellow were its primary colours, rich and full of life, shining scales that proudly displayed such royal warmth. But what stuck out the most was the familiar-looking magic that flowed out its eyes and tail tip, blazing with power, almost like raging fire. Very similar to Zak's miniature display of his own power, and revealed that this thing must have been a cryptid.

The dragon squinted, one coloured eyes scanning the boy. It was hard to read, but the beast seemed to be judging what it saw, almost looking confused, maybe even a little surprised. While the young Saturday stood there, unable to do anything. Never had he seen something of this size in person, with power that scared him, because it felt like his own.

The creature lifted its head a little, finally done analysing the child. Blinking momentarily, never taking his eyes off the boy.

_"Hm, ironic."_ He huffed out, its voice echoing within Zak's mind. _"Out of everything, a human body…"_ The reptile mused, it's voice barely displaying any emotion.

Feeling his head ringing, Zak bit his cheek. The dragon spoke through his mind, indicated by the crisp words he felt in his head, not booming like it would if he spoke with his mouth.

Flicking his head up, Zak finally found the ability to talk. "What?" He breathed out, eyes darting everywhere. "Where am I? Who are you? What is going on?!"

Tilting its head, as if reacting to an innocent question, the unknown Cryptid spoke again. _"Does my power not feel familiar? As they are your own…"_

And there it was, all the proof that Zak needed to conform his dreaded thoughts. "Kur..."

Satisfied that he did not need to keep giving hints, Kur bowed his head subtly, eyes slowly blinking once more.

Meanwhile, the boy could not believe his eyes. Kur, the very being of ancient times, ruler of Cryptids, slayer of humans and, more importantly, his past self was standing before him. It shouldn't be possible, yet here he was, standing in front of the very being he once was.

He didn't know exactly what to do, so his instincts kicked in for him. Reaching down, he flicked out his claw, striking into a defensive position. It was dumb, as there would be no way someone like him could take on this monster. Zak was barely the size of one of his claws.

Perking up, the Sumerian dragon shook his head slowly, his size and weight making his actions slow. _"Easy now. You are merely a projection of your soul, you can't touch or hit anything."_ And to demonstrate this, Kur flicked out one of his claws, without warning, toward the child. Just as contact would have been made, it simply phased through him _"See?"_

Jumping back from fright, Zak watched how, indeed, the king of cryptids was correct. That didn't stop his body tensing from the sudden sign of danger.

Eyes wide, waiting to see if Kur made another move, the young Saturday looked at his counterpart in confusion and disbelief "You're not trying to kill me?"

Kur's expression changed a little, A twitch on his lips showing a frown. _"And why on earth would I do such a thing to myself?"_ He questioned, perplexed by his future self.

That didn't steady the boy, as his heart kept racing, the back of his mind screaming at him to run, not to trust him. After all, if those stories he's heard were true, he would be in deep trouble.

For now, he'd try and go along with it, maybe even distract Kur and learn what was going on. "Then why am I here?..." He finally asked. "more importantly, where is here?" Taking his eyes off the dragon momentarily, he looked around the place.

_"The past."_ Kur explained, without hesitation. Then, without acknowledging the boy's shock, his whole body shuffled around, feet shifting places as he moved closer to the child's spot. Raising a claw again, he gestured to the vase. _"This artifact allows you to send your soul to the past, but only if you've come in contact with it before."_ Pulling his arm back and resting his claws again, his frilled spikes twitched in some kind of subtle emotion. _"Appears it does work with past lives, which I was hoping for." _Lowering his head, his muzzle came rather close to the young child. _"So, do I get to know our new name?"_

If it weren't for his frozen panic, Zak would have reacted and tried swatting the beast's nose, that or run, even if it did nothing. Instead, he held his breath, trying to calm himself. Acting in fear was not going to help him, no matter how hard he wanted to scream.

"Tell me why I'm here, first. Something called me to use this thing." He pointed at himself, resting a hand on his chest. As if on cue, his flaring eyes sparked a little more brightly.

_"...I wanted to see if my plan was going to work."_ Kur's voice whispered, almost as if he didn't want to explain himself out of shame.

Shuffling backwards, he needed a moment to direct his large number of legs. It was strange to watch, because it clearly took some amount of concentration to work with such a body, but it naturally moved around the nest, not knocking over or scratching anything.

Twisting around, the king pointed out another pedestal, one that carried a very well known item to the boy.

"The Kur Stone." Zak mumbled, eyes glued to the rock covered in puzzles.

Gazing at it with a strange look, the Cryptid dragon huffed heavily through his nose. _"I needed to know if this was worth the risk."_ His voice echoed.

It was then that the young boy finally noticed. The strange looks and emotions, he almost seemed...tired? Even though his facial expressions barely changed, his whole aura gave Zak an unusual vibe, as if he didn't have the energy to display his true power and pride. The way he gazed at the stone, he could even sound a little desperate.

Moving his eyes to look at the scaled king, he felt a strong urge to talk, as if there was something he needed to find out. "...Zak, Zak Saturday." He finally admitted, guard still up.

Pulling his eyes from his own map, Kur gazed down at the human. _"An interesting name…"_ Then his eyes looked away, raising his head high. _"The looks you are giving me tell me you are not pleased with me."_

"That's an understatement." Zak scoffed, finally able to show a little attitude. "Why would I ever be happy to meet the part of me that makes me a monster? The being who killed millions and ruled with an iron fist. The very being who's made my life a living hell this past year." The child ranted, the realization that the very cause of all his problems was right there, he felt himself snap a little.

There was a long pause, Kur hardly moving. Thinking over the child's words, he let out a soft sigh. _"...My stories have been tainted I see."_ Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to mull over some thoughts. Briefly, his front claws curled up. _"Tell me, have you actually seen writing about my stories? Sold evidence of what I've done?"_ He snapped his eyes open, twisting his neck around and looking at Zak.

The boy was taken aback, not expecting such a question. "...No. But all the stories I've heard, I know they're true." Zak defended his words, noting what appeared to be anger expressed through the dragon's talons.

Kur looked away again, straightening his neck. _"Who told you these stories?"_ The king whispered his demands.

"My family…" The child admitted, letting out a shaky breath.

_"And were they there, Kurling?"_ He still refused to look at the boy, his tone trying to point out the flaw in his facts.

Zak didn't want to admit he was wrong, but his past self had a point. He looked at the ground, finding the right words to say. "No, but I also heard the stories from the Nagas and the Legion of Garuda."

That caused a clear reaction this time. Snapping his head around, Kur hissed, his booming volume vibrating the air around him, shaking the boy's body even. _"Those fools? And you believed them?!"_ His whispering telepathy now struck the back of the child's mind, Kur's own Cryptid powers reacting to his sudden anger.

Groaning, Zak gripped his head, having not been prepared for such a reaction. Cracking an eye open, he looked at Kur with fear, thinking the beast might strike, forgetting that wasn't possible. However, to his surprise, the king looked shocked, eyes wide as his gaze stuck to the child. His talons uncurled, relaxing as he forced his magic to calm. The dragon's eyes drifted down, shame and guilt displayed in those illuminated eyes.

Kur took a moment, having promised himself to try and sort out his anger, especially around his future self. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the tip of his tail to fidget, as if a way to cope.

_"Of course they would frame my history...I suppose it is my punishment."_ He grimly stated, eyes glued to the etched flooring.

It caught the boy off guard again. Never did he expect to see this grand beast of history to look so...sad with himself. Of course, he could be acting. Zak kept telling himself to not trust this. It was Kur, and he was a monster, he had to be.

Breaking the silence, the dragon finally looked back at the human child. _"I wish to ask of something…"_ His voice returned to a deep whisper.

Frowning, the child stepped back a little. "What?"

He expected Kur to trick him, make Zak pity him so he would do something for the beast, like restarting the war, kill someone for him or finish an evil task.

_"To see what our new life is like…"_ The Sumerian Cryptid's eyes softened.

Blinking, Zak gave him an odd look. The beast sounded so desperate, with what little emotion he displayed. His entire, enormous, body limped a little, as if to make himself look less intimidating. And as Kur's eyes drifted away, Zak could notice the embarrassment, like he had been holding himself back from asking the child such a question.

And none of it sounded like it was for an evil plan, but rather because it was something deeply personal, a wish that this tired king sought for.

He didn't have to, Zak knew very well that this could be a trap and trick. He could be mind-controlled, memories alter, anything to make him the monster everyone saw him as. Yet his heart weighed heavier than his brain, feeling how genuine the request was.

Biting his lip, hoping he made the right choice, he nodded. However, he didn't know what to do next, so he allowed Kur to come close.

Slithering up to the boy again, the dragon lowered his muzzle to the ground. He seemed to hesitate, as if expecting the child to change his mind last minute, or didn't know if he wanted to see these memories.

Closing his eyes, the serpent dragon allowed his magic to work. Zak tilted his head, confused, when his hold mind felt like it was lifted off the ground. His eyes widen and he stood there, not fighting the connection.

The magic that leaked from both their eyes flared, growing in size before striking out towards each other, merging and sharing their powers, thus their minds could read each one another.

Zak could feel Kur prodding in his brain, but only to watch memories. The boy briefly tried to see if he could do the same, but it became clear he wasn't near this kind of mental level, roughly getting shoved back by the Cryptid's mind. He was even sure Kur wasn't trying to keep him out, it was just too much to handle.

Then the connection broke, the flaring magic from their eyes retreated back into place.

Dazed, Zak stumbled back, holding his head with both hands. It didn't feel like his past self tried anything funny, but it didn't stop the normal mind reading side effects.

Laying his head in silence, the giant reptile stared at nothing, still and quiet, thinking over what he saw.

_"A strange family, and yet so loving…"_ He finally spoke, already stating the most obvious thing about Zak life. _"Even brothers with a Lumerian, yet even more irony."_ Kur pointed out, almost in a joking manner.

The child stared at the original owner of his soul, letting those choice of words sink it. "You're really not evil?..."

Everything he thought about Kur was starting to break apart. He now knew that there was more to the story, as there was no way a monster supposedly that evil, could act so depressed, only noting the love in Zak's life as anything worthwhile.

Raising his head high again, the dragon stared at the boy. _"Evil is a strong term, but I'm far from an angel."_ He explained, tail swishing as his eyes wandered. _"My story is long, tragic and complicated. What you've seen and heard is a mere fraction of the truth. But it seems to have been covered up by those that only want to see one part of it."_ Kur hummed, having now seen his portrayal in the future.

Letting those words sink in, Zak realised how much he understood those words. What happened the past year flashed through his mind briefly. "Then what is the truth?" He finally asked the long-awaited question.

A surge of emotion flowed over Kur again, his whole body noticeably stiffening, magic sparking like kindling fire, eyes sharpening as his mind flooded with old and long memories. The child noticed how he subconsciously brushed his paw across a long jagged scar down the front of him.

"Maybe do that memory share thing, again?" The child shrugged, somewhat trying to change the mood.

Kur's eyes snapped back at him again. _"No, there is a reason I removed any memories of our old life for you."_ His tongue wriggled in his mouth uncomfortably, hanging his head again. _"It's too hard to live with…"_

Those few words hid thousands of stories, ones too hard to go into deep detail about. Despite how much he wanted to see, Zak seemed to understand that it would be for the best.

Lifting his head, the beast looked over the boy, seeing he was desperate for something. He needed his past self to say something, especially after what he suffered last year.

Finding his voice again, Kur's body began to shuffle around once more. _"But perhaps I can explain the basics and questions you might have."_ Laying his long body across his nest, he folded his legs into place, resting his wings and folding his front paws. _"Go on."_

Surprised, Zak didn't know where to start, or even how. But one question pushed to the front. "Why...why kill so many? Why force cryptids to become slaves?" He pleaded to know.

Eyes closing, Kur had a feeling he knew that would be the first thing asked. _"It's not that simple, Kurling."_ His tired breath huffed through his tight lips. _"I shall start with my beginning."_ Then his wings unfolded, shining brighter than before. The symbols and carvings around the room reacted, glowing in order of Kur's wishes. _"And what lead me to become the King Of Cryptids."_

Eyes widen with wonder, Zak felt that mythical power that rained throughout the area. To think, he might be capable of something like this one day. But, he pushed those thoughts away, for now, instead choosing to take a seat on the ground.

Waiting for the child to settle, Kur began his tale, shortened as best he could. _"One day I was just...born, alive, for lack of a better term."_ He gestured to one of the tapestries, displaying a picture of his younger, meek self. _"I knew nothing but my powers over other creatures."_ He brushed a paw past his eyes, gesturing to the magic flowing out of him. _"I knew I had been made for something, some kind of destiny or fate, one that I still don't know."_

Raising his own hand, Zak copied, brushing it past his eyes, seeing his orange glimmer illuminate his palm and fingers.

Resting his paw again, Kur continued. _"Others around me thought the same. Many trained me, guided me and put me on a pedestal. Always saying I was destined for greatness, to be the leader of all Cryptids."_ He allowed himself to think back, their words of encouragement, ideas and goals for him echoed in the back of his head. Who knew that something so positive could lead to something so dark. _"And so I waited and waited, slowing becoming their leader. I was a perfect fit for the role that everyone trained me for. I could lead, protect and care for all my subjects."_ His composer faltered, shame washing over him. _"And yet it didn't feel like this was what my life should be. So boring, predictable, especially after all that build up and pride over me."_ His words sounded so bittered, embarrassed by his younger self's ideals and thoughts. _"I guess I became arrogant, naive, wanting more excitement, barely thankful for the role I took."_

Tilting his head, Zak gave him an odd look. Was Kur telling him he was once, indeed, some kind of spoiled brat?

Biting his forked tongue, the Sumerian dragon's expression hardened. _"That's when the humans came around."_ He held back a growl, doing his best to move past his judgemental views from the past. _"I've hated them for a long time."_ He shook his head lightly, eyes peering at the human child in his presence. _"I could just never understand how such primitive creatures could grow so fast, how smart they could become, how strong they were against us."_ Tapping the ground lightly, his eyes looked away. _"It was only a matter of time before we went to war. To see which side was worthy to live on earth."_

"Could you not share it?"The boy innocently asked, still trying to find a brighter side to any situation.

The dragon paused, tilting his head at such a question. It somewhat surprised him, seeing how his future self held a heart of gold. _"...Maybe one day, but not now."_ Taking a deep breath, the king explained the problem. _"Fear consumed both sides. Humans didn't trust us, only saw cryptids as rampaging monsters. While we saw them as pests, things that scared us because they could surprise us."_ Guilt pulled at him, blaming him for not trying hard enough. _"We did try, once. But one thing led to another and I had to lead my people into war."_ Resting his chin on his neck, Kur felt his tail coiled in frustration. _"The start of my downfall."_

Zak didn't comment, just leaning in a little closer. He knew very well what would be said next would explain the darker tales he's heard of the old beast.

Lifting his head, Kur spoke with a sharp tone. _"I thought I found my destiny, that I was meant to remove humans before they could cause more harm. But that only lead me into bloodlust, made me eager to fight and kill without shame or mercy."_ His eyes drifted to his first pair of claws, reminding himself of how much blood he shed with just his animistic ways. _"It took me too long to see what I had become, what I had done and who I had hurt."_ He swallowed, battle scene cries of anger, fear and sadness clawed at him. _"Even my followers. I pushed them, ordered them and was unforgiving."_ His eyes narrowed, showing anger, but only towards himself. _"The creatures I swore to protect, now only fear me."_

His gestured to the next tapestry, showing a bloody battlefield. Both humans and Cryptid a war. Kur himself was above the fight, alighting everything on fire.

The way he spoke, it showed how much he had been through, even without telling the stories in depth. "What about friends, family? Did they not try and stop you?" Zak piped up. There just had to be something good, he wanted to hear it.

_"...I don't have family, at least what I'm aware of."_ Kur squinted, thinking back to his smaller days. _"As I said, I just came into existence, with only mystery surrounding me and questions to be answered."_ He gazed away, looking at nothing as he thought to himself. _"And those I could consider close, were not exactly what you would call friends. Mentors and caregivers, but my title always came first."_

"You didn't want friends?" Zak tilted his head, trying to understand the chosen words.

The old king shook his head gently. _"No, they were the ones to use my title as an excuse. I just accepted it."_ His eyes drifted again, but this time at the tapestries, eyes zeroing in on certain figures. They were people he once knew. _"Now any chance I have is forever gone. Anyone near me either fears me or dies."_ He forced himself to look away from the old pictures, trying not to sink too deeply into his guilt. _"The amount of loss I've seen and what I've done, curses me to be alone."_ Then his eyes landed on Zak. _"I once thought I had to walk down this path by myself, something that I've come to regret."_ Those words were deep, spoken by someone with no one at their side they trusted. _"It's been lonely in my older years."_

Thinking to himself, the boy asked another question. "What about the Nagas, they seem pretty close to you?"

Fork tongue hissing between his lips, Kur felt his claws tighten. _"You think I'm friends with those things?"_ Scrunching his face, the dragon looked in disgust. _"Their anger and strive for war far outweighed mine, even in my prime."_

"Then why do they look up to you?" Zak asked, desperately wanting to know why the Nagas did what they did.

Staring at the boy, the dragon calmed himself once more. He was going to scare the child again, he just had a hard time with his anger. _"I once trusted them...one of my worst decisions."_ Waving his paw, he pointed to the next tapestry. This one displayed a crowd of nagas, standing by Kur's side as a wave of humans approached. _"The Nagas use to have a grand kingdom, one resting upon the coast, their golden buildings shining in the morning glow. It's no wonder it attracted humans."_

Zak didn't know about that. He had always presumed the Nagas liked living underground. However, it appears this was another detail he didn't understand or pick up on.

_"As they began to understand and use magic, they attack the Nagas, dwindling their numbers, stripping their home of gold and other metals."_ The beast twirled his claws. _"So I interfered. Saving the serpents, but suffering from battle damage."_ He brushed past his large scar again, the one located along the underbelly of his neck. It was deep, jagged and looked rather fatal.

Subconsciously swallowing, Zak felt his own neck tingle. He could only imagine how painful the damage had been. Along with having to live with a scar that reminded you of one of your biggest mistakes.

Resting his paw again, the Cryptid continued his story. _"The Nagas helped in my recovery, pledging their loyalties to me and began to see me as their saviour, sometimes even God."_ He glanced away again, having to admit the truth. _"And they were formidable allies, their hatred for humans fueled them, even in the present it seems."_

"Can say that again…" Zak mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. He could remember Rangi Nagi's dreaded speech about killing all humans.

_"And their anger fueled my own. Their words pushed my pride, greed, wrath and envy."_ His disgust became shame quickly. _"I truly thought I was a God, a being above all else and should be treated as such."_ And how wrong he had been, thinking he was more than anything else. Pride was a dangerous thing to play with. _"Rangi Nagi was always at my side, whispering the right things to keep me on track, making sure I never once doubted these decisions I made and to never look at the consequences."_ A shiver went down his long twistable spine, her voice echoed in the back of his head. _"Not until it was too late."_ His eyes softened. _"I was wrong to listen to them. I should have seen what they made me become."_ He paused before lightly shaking his head. _"No, what I am is my fault, they just helped in the making."_ He blamed himself, knowing full well that it was his choice in the end. _"They didn't care for me, personally, only the use of me."_

Again, Zak could relate. Their supposed love of Kur wasn't true, for they only loved the power and ideals around him. When the child refused to answer their wishes, they jumped at the chance to worship Argost without a second thought. So much for being loyal followers.

But slowly, Zak started to piece together the truth. "So you killed millions and enslaved the world, all because you thought you deserved more?" He wasn't sure how to react.

Nodding shamefully, eyes full of sorrow, Kur spoke again. _"Now I am surrounded by corpses, covered in scars, standing in a kingdom falling apart with a broken crown."_ He brushed his claws along his pile of gold lazily, no light of anything positive within his eyes. _"The outcome I failed to see before it was too late…"_

Pity began to control Zak's voice. "So you are a monster, or, well, use to be?..."

_"Yes...I once was the creature from the whispers you've heard."_ Kur admitted, seeing no reason to deny his crimes. _"But my story is more than that small portion, especially with how long I've lived."_ He added on, wanting to truly get it through to the boy that there was something more to it. _"And with everything that's happened, I don't even want to live anymore. There's nothing left for me."_

Tilting his head, the child leaned in. "Then why transfer your soul?" His eyes briefly glanced at the Kur Stone.

Catching his glance, the beast spoke the truth. _"Because I can't die."_ He paused before clarifying _"Well, more that my soul will not leave this world."_

"What?" Zak blinked, not sure how to process such an answer.

Needing an example, the king thought back to the memories he saw through the child. _"You died once, correct? Are you not wondering how you lived? How you still have your soul and powers?"_

The young Saturday almost shuddered, thinking back to how he technically died for a few minutes. So he nodded.

_"I don't know what chains us to this world, but something wants us to stay."_ He pressed his paws onto the ground. _"You see, the Legion of Garuda used the flute on me before."_ Momentarily glancing at the child's surprise, he continued. _"But they didn't win, as my soul eventually returned to my body."_ He could almost remember how his soul was literally ripped from his body. It was not a pleasant feeling. _"It was then that I, along with the Legion, learnt that as long as my body is still here, my soul will return to it."_

"Like me." Zak gasped quietly, realisation hitting him like a truck. "Argost didn't destroy my body."

_"So your soul returned to its original vessel."_ Kur finished.

That's when it hit Zak, his eyes wandering back over the Kur Stone. "Wait, then that means…"

Seeing that the child was finally piecing it together, the dragon began again. _"I know the Legion will come soon and this time they will succeed, they will destroy my body so that I may not return to the land of the living."_ He glanced at his map, wondering if his mind would still be awake when stuck in it. _"But I know my soul will not move on, which is why I have this plan."_

That's when Zak jumped to his feet, almost stumbling forward. "No, you can't!" He felt his legs barely shaking. "Please, if you do this, then I'll...I'll be stuck like this." He pleaded with a cracked voice. "If you don't do it, then I'll be normal. The scientists won't hunt us again, the world will be safe, I won't...have to keep hiding my powers." He stared at his hands, heavily breathing as hidden emotions began to seep.

This time Kur pitied him, briefly looking at the mythical vase. _"I'm afraid that is not how time works, at least not with this artifact."_ His eyes softened when gazing at the pleading boy. _"But even if I did, you wouldn't be Zak. You would be someone else, even if you carried the same name."_

"Maybe I don't want to be me then…" He whispered loudly, finally stating what he had been thinking for so long.

He didn't want to be like this, not after what happened. What he was put through, what his family sacrificed. It just wasn't fair.

The Sumerian dragon paused, looking over the begging child, who hid his face in shame. _"Tell me, why do you think you are a monster?"_

Eyes widening, Zak wasn't expecting a question. And yet, he answered, as no one ever asked him such an enquiry. "Everyone says I am, that one day I am meant to kill all humans and rule the world." Eyes, that were also tired of everything, looked to their counterpart. "Argost, the Nagas, the other scientists, friends, even my family deep down."

How sudden it was. One moment, he was on top of the world, a hero to everyone. The next, he was the villain, the monster everyone could only see him as. It's as if they completely forgot all he had done, in favour of going on their witch hunt.

And as the child looked down in shame, Kur felt something in himself. He recognized these feelings, knowing very well what it was like to have people want you to be what they say you should be. He couldn't allow his new life to end the same. Thankfully, he knew what to say, as they were words he wished he once heard himself.

Sliding a paw forward, Kur used the tip of his claws to catch the child's attention. _"Peoples expectations of you doesn't make you what they say you should be."_ He used his softest of voices, the very one he used back when he actually took great care in his followers. _"I fell into that pit as well, Kurling."_ He watched as he drew the boy in with his words, displaying his child eyes full of wild emotions. How it hurt to see how the future tormented his next life, at such a young age too. _"All that talk about fate, what I was born to do, listening to what others wanted me to be, pushed me to be a tyrant with the wrong ideas. I wasted my life listening to the wrong words."_ So many times he wished he could go back and change everything. But time came with a cost, you could never rewind it.

Pressing his teeth together, Zak dared not to let the water in his eyes spill. He had sealed away so much for the safety of the world and others. But standing here, listening to someone who knew how it all felt, it was something he so desperately needed to hear.

Seeing that his words were working, Kur shuffled closer. _"But you are still young, in a new era, surrounded by people who care. You have a chance to use our powers for good."_ Raising a claw, he pointed directly as the child, inches away from his chest. _"And you have been, from what I saw. You truly care for our subjects, protecting them and listening. Treating them as equals."_

Eyes shuffling around, Zak allowed those words to sink in. Sighing loudly, he rubbed his arms. "It's hard when the world expects you to hurt it."

lowering his claw, Kur gave an apologetic look. _"I know, I am sorry for the past I gave you."_ He lowered his muzzle once more, letting out a deep, but warm and gently huff. _"But you must understand something, young child. You are Kur, as am I, but you are also Zak Saturday, and the only person that can decide what or who you are is yourself."_

Eyes widening, he realised just how often his Zak side was forgotten, even by himself. "But the people that say I'm a monster…"

Narrowing his eyes determinedly, the sun coloured dragon began raising his head. _"Prove to them that you are not."_ He sternly told. _"Take this new life to show them that the past can not be changed, but the future can. That judgment without evidence is foolish and leads to darkness."_ He then began to open his wings entirely, showing off their sunset rays, and displaying more of his power to the tiny human. _"Let them see that our powers can be for good. Show them who you truly are, the person you want to be, not the person they think you are."_ Stretching his wings, the beast gazed over them. _"I wasted my life, but you have a chance, we have a chance, to fix the mistakes made by history."_ His six eyes all stared directly into Zak's own eyes. _"Our powers do not define us, it is how we use them…"_

The boy paused for a good while, staring in disbelief. "Are we really needed?..."

_"Your memories tell me we are."_ He began to fold his wings. _"Ever since I died, cryptids appear to have dwindled in numbers."_

And he had a point, there was a reason why cryptids were so hard to find.

"So it's up to me to fix that?" Zak stared at his past life, magic glimmering around his eyes.

Gaze never moving, Kur's deep voice rippled. _"So it may seem."_

Allowing a moment for himself, the human child thought over what the dragon said. He knew his powers were made for something, so maybe it was his goal to learn the truth and find what they were meant for. Kur tried once, so it was now his turn. Yet he still felt scared, so unsure of himself.

The Cryptid noticed this from the child's expression. So he let out a tired sigh, gazing at his paws. _"I know this is a lot to ask for. But from what I've seen, I know you'll do anything for our kind."_ Taking a sharp breath, he raised his head once more. _"You don't have to be their king, but you are their guardian."_

And for the first time coming here, Zak smiled fondly. "I think I like that title better than King." Laughing to himself quietly, he brushed a hand through his hair. "Sadly, Fisk's already taken the Guardian name..."

Tilting his head, Kur too gave his first smile since meeting the child._ "I'm sure you'll think of something else."_

And for a moment, the two allowed silence. So much was learnt, so much passed on, between two beings sharing the same soul. It was a lot to take in, but for once, Zak started to feel peace again.

The knowledge knowing Kur wasn't same tyrant lunatic comforted him. It just appeared that the people around them were quick to judge or hold grudges.

But their silence was shattered by the sound of yelling. Both the dragon and human perked up, twisting their heads to face the location of the hidden entrance.

Zak could hear what sounded like people screaming, shouting in an ancient language he didn't understand. He was about to grab his claw, when Kur began to stand.

_"The Legion."_ The king huffed, his frilled spikes ruffling. _"Appears they've come sooner than I thought."_ He turned his attention back to his young guest. _"It is time for you to go."_

Eyes widening, Zak stepped forward. "But there's still so much I want to ask! Still so much I need to know."

The old dragon stared at the boy, at the door, then back at the boy again. _"What you want can be found in other ways, but what you need can only be obtained by yourself."_ And with passing on his final piece of wisdom, Kur turned away, his entire body circling around. _"Return to your family, tell them the truth…"_ Pausing, the beast felt he needed to say one more thing. So, he flared out his fiery wings in a display of power. _"Show the world the truth of our powers!"_ He cried out.

Eyes still wide, Zak allowed one more moment to feel the familiar magic. Briefly lowering his head, he nodded to himself. "I'll do my best...Our best." He gazed at Kur with a strong look, ready to fight against the world again.

And without another word, the mythical vase began to pull back it's magical white fog, along with dragging back Zak's soul.

Kur heard the boy yelp, but knew he should be fine. Finding himself alone once more, ready to face his death, he couldn't help but looked to the Kur Stone, his prized plan for a new life.

Before he showed himself to his foes, he gave himself a moment to rewatch Zak's memories, seeing what his future had instore. And it involved adventures, sciences, friends and love...

_"A family is what awaits for me…"_ He mused, allowing another smile. He was happy he could die peacefully, soon being able to rest and prepare his soul for the next life.

Without waiting another moment, Kur opened the seals, his hidden door sliding open. Outside the legion stood with allies. Showing off their dangerous weapons and tools, some even showing off magic they learnt.

An army of humans versus the 'King Of Cryptids'. If this was truly Kur's finally moment, he knew he had to put on a show.

Cracking his jaw wide open, he let out a thunderous roar, his striking draconic wings flared in warning. His spikes shuffling as his whole body crawled forward, his tail whipping around threateningly. Eyes still ablaze with magic, he warned any cryptids nearby to stay away, for this was his fight and his alone…

It was time for the king to fall...


End file.
